Bottom Feeder Read online

  “Maddy, wake up!” I plead.

  Her eyes flutter rapidly. Recognition crosses her face. She releases Beraz’s wrists and slumps back into the water.

  I notice something on the other side of the tub. I reach across to pick up the tiny—whatever it is.

  “What is that?” Beraz asks. He tries to examine Maddy, but she hugs her knees and places her head on top of them.

  “A tooth?” I raise my eyebrows at the blood-crusted incisor resting in the palm of my hand. “We should take her to the hospital.”

  “No!” Maddy begins to rock. “It’s not my tooth.”

  “Who did this?” Beraz asks at the same time I ask, “Were you raped?”

  “I just need a minute. Just one minute. Please.” Without looking up, she wraps her hand around the object that earlier clanged against the tub.

  “What is that?” I move to pry the object from her hand.

  “Baby, please look at me,” Beraz pleads.

  Finally, I gently force her fingers open.

  “You should see the other guy,” she laughs without humor.

  “Who. Did. This?” Beraz asks through clenched teeth.

  I glance down at the heavy Georgia flag belt buckle in my hand. “Where is he?”

  “Gone.”

  “Gone where? Is this his tooth?” I look to Beraz. His face has turned a sickly pale. His breathing is coming in long, ragged inhales and exhales. “Who works for Cordell?”

  “I got rid of him.” She lifts her eyes to mine. “He was shocked after I kicked his tooth out so I took the opportunity to run for the Taser in the bedroom.” A wild look shades over her eyes. “I Tased him twice. I took the prongs out and Tased him again with the one I keep in the kitchen. I wrapped his hands and feet and called down for So—for someone to come get him.”

  And there’s my answer. “What’s the doorman’s name, Beraz?”

  “Sonny,” he answers absently. “Why is that . . .” His eyes widen. He runs out the door before I can get to my feet.

  “Dom, no!” Maddy yells. She tries to stand but crumples back into the tub with a loud moan. “Jackson, please go after him.”

  The door to the stairwell closes as I exit the apartment. There aren’t many—if any—occupants on this floor, but I race down the hall in silence to steer clear of making a scene. I open the door to see Beraz leaping over the railing of each flight of stairs like he’s an action star or some shit.

  The first couple of hard landings give me a jolt. Each one after isn’t much easier. I finally make it to the bottom level on shaky legs.

  Again, trying to avoid attention, Beraz and I run out a side exit then loop around to the front of the building.

  “Mr. Beraz,” another doorman opens the door for us.

  Beraz calmly approaches the man. “Hey, James,” he says conversationally. “Is Sonny around? I had something to give him before he left today.”

  “He’s probably around by the garage.” He gestures toward the east side of the building. “You might be able to catch him before he goes home.”

  I nod to James and sprint to catch up with Beraz. We spot Sonny walking up a ramp at the side of the parking garage.

  “How ya’ doin’, Sonny?” Beraz yells, breaking into a faster sprint. Sonny is smiling as he turns. When he sees us, the smile fades into a fusion of fear and . . . is that relief? The look of relief quickly diminishes as I run ahead of Beraz at breakneck speed, jumping over the railing to block Sonny’s escape.

  “Where’re the cameras?” Beraz asks, following my lead to finish off the blockade.

  “You have to understand,” Sonny begins. Something like a growl releases from inside me and he pauses before saying anything else. Sweat pops out on his forehead.

  “Cameras,” Beraz repeats. “I will not hesitate to break every bone in your body, you fucking coward.”

  Sonny jerks his head to a small opening at the left of the parking garage, behind the stairs. We herd him into the nook. Beraz pushes him against the wall and wraps his hands around Sonny’s thick neck.

  “Tell me where he is.”

  “I don’t know.” Sonny’s voice comes out as a harsh gurgling sound as Beraz tightens his grip. “I swear I don’t know.”

  “You better tell him something,” I say. “I think he’s serious about this bone-breaking thing.”

  “Mary, Mother of God,” he prays. “Please help me.”

  “You know, Sonny, God gives us free will,” Beraz says matter-of-factly. “You have the free will to pray because you might be scared or in need of salvation. Me? I have the free will to do this,” Beraz slams Sonny’s head against the wall, “Because you are not cooperating. You knew he was gonna hurt her and you let it happen, you sorry sack of shit. You were going to let him rape and kill her.” He bangs Sonny’s head against the wall again. “What the fuck did she ever do to you?”

  I step up to Beraz and calmly pull his arms away from the terrified doorman’s throat. Sonny breathes a sigh of relief. My fist swings around, landing with a crunch on Sonny’s jaw. He drops to the ground, but not before another punch crashes his nose.

  Beraz squats in front of Sonny and grabs the collar of his uniform. “That girl may just be a paycheck for you, but she—she is my life. Do you know what will happen if she were to lose her life?”

  Scared to answer aloud, Sonny shakes his head.

  “If she loses her life, I lose my life. If I lose my life, then I have nothing else to lose. You think about that when you’re sitting down to a nice dinner with your family tonight. A wife and little boy, right? You think about that real. Fucking. Hard.” Beraz slams Sonny against the wall one last time before walking away.

  James greets us. “You boys find Sonny?”

  “We just missed him,” Beraz says glumly. “We’ll catch him another time.”

  In the elevator, I look over to a calm and collected Beraz. “You do any hard time before the army?”

  He snorts. “The army doesn’t take felons, Monroe. You know that.”

  Maddy

  Earlier

  I break away from Larry as soon as he pushes me through the door. I grab the cake plate on the counter and pitch it as hard as I can. He dodges my throw and the plate smashes against the wall. There are no screams, no shouts, no verbal threats. The fight between us has been going on for too long to need anything more than action and reaction.

  We punch, kick and throw whatever our hands land on. I finally get to the hallway, where I try to run inside the bedroom for the Taser and hopefully find a split-second to catch my breath. I don’t make it.

  He grabs around my waist, lifts me in the air and slams me against the wall like a ragdoll. I crumple to floor. With vengeance in his eyes and an ugly, smug smile splayed across his face, he begins ripping my clothes off. My skin jaggedly frays open with each snag of the material.

  Fight, Carrington! Get up and fight! Don’t let him take this from you again.

  He tugs his belt off and begins shrugging his unbuttoned slacks down when something inside me snaps. I let out a terrible scream. Larry tries to cover my mouth, but I bite down on his hand. I make a fist and punch him in the throat with the knuckle of my middle finger.

  Everything after that is a blur. Blood pours from his mouth when I kick him in the face. Shock registers as he chokes and spits out a tooth. I take the opportunity to run for the Taser. I Tase him once and drag him into the living room. I Tase him again with the Taser from the kitchen. I pull his belt off and beat the hell out of him with it while he’s twitching on the ground. I get a sick pleasure out of watching him convulse into fits. I secure his legs with his belt and retrieve a roll of duct tape from the kitchen. I bind his hands. Larry yells for help.

  “Not today,” I whisper. I place the duct tape over his mouth and wrap the roll around his head twice. “Another sound, Mr. Duvall, and I will stab you and watch you bleed out on Cordell’s floor. You’re finished hurting me. Do you understand?”

  I feel as if
I have no control over my body as I punch him again for good measure. I bind his legs with duct tape, discard the belt, and remove the buckle. It’s my souvenir now.

  Scrolling through the numbers in Larry’s cell phone, I come across DMANNY. On a hunch, I take this to mean “Doorman New York”. I call the number and recognize Sonny’s voice immediately.

  “Take your break now,” I say calmly, “And remove him from my apartment.”

  I scroll through the rest of the names—along with the numbers connected to those names. I take a picture with my cell phone of each contact. I notice one particular number has an odd country code attached to it.

  I dial the number from Larry’s phone.

  “Mr. Duvall,” Cordell greets. “You have good news for me?”

  “Guess again,” I reply. “He’s coming back wrapped in a nice package.”

  Cordell inhales sharply.

  “The next one you send won’t come back at all.”

  And I hang up.

  “Take the back elevator down, and get him out of here,” I tell Sonny when he finally arrives. “When you finish today’s shift, leave the City.”

  “Maddy, I—”

  “Listen to me,” I say. “He won’t come for you directly. He will target your wife, your kids, and anyone else you love. Quit this job and move as far away as you can.”

  The next thing I know I’m in the bathtub with my fingers wrapped around Dom’s wrists.

  I scrub manically until every drop of blood is wiped from the surfaces, including the door. I pick through the shattered pieces of glass. Apparently I am not meant to have Martha Stewart cake plates.

  I sigh in frustration as the last of the larger pieces are placed in the recycling bin. My ribs scream in misery when I sigh. I release another frustrated sigh. This is the beginning of a vicious cycle.

  The worst part of all this? Larry attacked when Dom and Jackson were here. I do not believe in coincidences. I believe that every minuscule thing that happens is an event that leads to another event that leads to another. In this case, Sonny was my coincidence.

  My stomach rolls and flips like a single-wide trailer in a Kansas tornado at the realization of just how close Larry was this time. Thisclose. A tingly feeling spreads from deep inside my chest to the tip of my tongue. I sprint to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before my breakfast comes up.

  Rinse. Brush. Rinse. Slump against the bathtub. Close my eyes.

  Why does anyone else have to be involved in this? It was my secret to keep. Mine. I just want it to end.

  And a shower. I really want a shower.

  Sonny, I discovered, has been keeping tabs on me and reporting back to Larry. Because I had to give notice to allow Dom and Jackson in the building when I’m not here, Sonny knew I was having guests this weekend—just like he knew when Dom arrived last week.

  No one in the building knows I am moving out. I kept that information purposely hidden. I’m sure President Highland has attempted to contact Cordell. Good thing he doesn’t know when I’m leaving. My absence will not take very long to discover. Someone will notice, and that someone will contact Cordell. Doesn’t matter, though.

  By then I will be long gone.

  Jackson

  Anger and confusion are running so thick, the walls inside the building may burst at any moment. Maddy seems to be buzzing with a calm energy.

  I pace the length of the apartment. Beraz seethes in a corner, watching her every move. Maddy is cleaning with a sense of urgency.

  We offer to help dust, sweep, mop. Anything.

  “It’s been a hard day for everyone,” Maddy says. “Relax.”

  She apologizes profusely to Beraz and me, then apologizes to him for having to be involved a second time. I want to shake her and scream “It’s not your fault!” But I don’t. I watch Beraz fumble to find an un-bruised area of her body to touch her. To comfort her.

  A single, silent tear rolls down her cheek. Witnessing Maddy cry feels as if bricks are being catapulted on my chest. Before I begin to process this—whatever this is—she smiles weakly and says, “I’m hungry.”

  Beraz, as usual, goes out for dinner. Maddy perches on the arm of the couch, winces, then slides down to the cushion.

  When Beraz and I returned from our talk with Sonny, she recalled the details of her assault, beginning with how the bastard attacked her from behind. Never, even with my time spent in a warzone, have I ever witnessed the degree of cowardice Cordell and his flunkies have displayed.

  I sit next to her and turn on the television. “You really okay?” I scoot closer. Not too close.

  She nods without looking at me. “A little tired.”

  I turn off the television. “Why do you apologize for things you have no control over?”

  “Because I don’t have control over them,” she replies simply. Well okay. “I wish you could understand. This thing between Larry and me? Cordell and me? It’s supposed to be private. I never wanted anyone else to experience this part of my life.”

  “You can’t take on the world alone, Maddy.”

  “You think I’m weak.” It’s not a question. “You think I’m a pushover for allowing this to go on for so long.”

  “I used to think so.” Knowing what Maddy has gone through, the battles she has fought and survived throughout the years, would never again allow me to view her as nothing more than stronger than me. Than anyone I know.

  Dixon was right when he said she is made of something stronger than the rest of us.

  Unfazed by my answer, Maddy nods. “I don’t feel hatred or anger toward those who hurt me. Maybe I’m not wired that way. I tried to be angry with Mama for taking the easy way out. It wasn’t the cheating that got to her, it was everything else. She knew the things Cordell did for a living. She thought, by committing suicide, Savannah would finally know about the real Cordell Carrington. She could’ve never guessed just how far his money would go. After she was gone, no one else noticed the changes in him. Always sad, always confused. I loved him as best as I could, because loving him is what I was supposed to do. I thought that one day he would see what Larry was doing and help. Instead, he looked at me and hated me more and more each day.”

  “He showed me the letter,” I say quietly.

  “I’d like to know.”

  The words from have lingered since the day I read the small, elegant handwriting of a woman whose life meant so little to herself because a controlling asshole like Cordell beat down her esteem all those years. So she decided it was better to end everything than keep going. The story Cordell told me doesn’t make sense, but I recite the letter for Maddy anyway.

  “It said, ‘The lies come so easily that I am in a constant state of shame, draped in jewels of deception. Underneath it all I am clothed in the grace God has given me. The pursuit to buy my silence was not done in vain, as you will never hear from me again after today.’”

  “She knew,” Maddy nods as if this is a confirmation. “She knew about CC. She knew he killed CC’s husband, her father, and my father.”

  I stand to pace the floor, stopping at the windows to observe the raging city below. Thinking about this shit storm. Wondering if I should pray to a God I’m not sure I believe in.

  “Do you think I’m good for Dom?”

  Observing the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows makes everything seem as if I am watching a movie. Or like I am intruding on those people’s lives. A sense of emptiness washes over me. Without taking my eyes off the constant movements below, I answer truthfully, “He loves you.” After today, I’m damn sure of that.

  “That’s not an answer,” she replies. “I don’t understand how . . . you know what, it’s okay. Never mind.”

  I turn to her. “I understand.”

  I’m not exactly sure why I understand, but I do. Confused? Me, too. I’ve been nothing but confused since this girl walked into my life. I hate it. But I don’t hate it. I might like it. But I don’t know why I like it.

&nb
sp; Maddy furrows her brow but doesn’t press the issue.

  Beraz returns with dinner, including a large box of fried okra for Maddy. We eat in comfortable silence and, oddly enough, watch old UFC fights.

  “I can’t believe you like this stuff,” I say to Maddy.

  “Oh, I don’t watch for entertainment, Jackson,” she says sleepily, her head resting on Beraz’s lap and her hand inside the okra box. “I watch to learn.”

  The next morning, a couple of workers from the donation center arrive to take half the apartment to their distribution facility. Fear and disgust cross their faces when they glimpse Maddy’s bruised and swollen features.

  The men glance to Beraz. Then me. Beraz. Me. Like a tennis match.

  I tense. Beraz tenses. They are accusing us without saying a word.

  “What the fu—“ Beraz says at the same time I say “Look here, you fu—“

  Maddy puts an end to the stare down. “I was mugged.”

  The workers seem to accept the answer to their unspoken question and begin moving out the furniture. When they load the last bundle into their truck, Maddy gathers boxes of kitchen items, clothing, and books to pack in the Beemer.

  “Where are we?” I ask as we pull up to a rundown apartment building.

  “Cecilia lives here. I promised her mom this stuff.” Maddy sighs. “I can’t let her see me like this. Can you two take this up while I circle the block? Her mom said not to leave the car sitting for too long.”

  The dilapidated structure seems just a few boards shy of an actual building. Thankfully we make it up the fourth flight of stairs without falling through the floor. A pretty Hispanic girl, around five or six, answers the door cautiously. Her big brown eyes brighten at the sight of Beraz.

  “Dominic!” she beams. “Ma! Ma, it’s Maddy’s friend!” She turns to me. “Who are you?”

  “Jackson,” I answer, squatting down to eye level. “I’m a friend of Maddy’s.”